What the Greeks Knew
by rebel scamp
Summary: What happens when we let outside forces control us?
1. Chapter 1: Five points

Title: What the Greeks Knew  
Disclaimer: Spash=not mine, everything else totally my brain child.  
Rating: PG-NC-17  
Pairing: Spencer and Ashley, those lovely Goddesses  
Summary: A story told through the five elements and a pentagram. Both girls get each once. and it deals with themes of OCD, death, grief, love, all that good stuff  
A.N.: nearly all written in stream of consiousness, and a little out of character, Have fun!

**Chapter 1 Five Points (Ashley's Pentagram)**

I'm walking. Where I don't know. Something strangely calm about this place. I've never been here before. I don't know why. I should have known this place existed before now. It's cold. Damp. The rain has stopped though. I guess that's a good thing. My brown locks are clinging to my face. Chills run down my spine. It's eerily quite. Too quite. Looming clouds hide celestial beings. So many heavenly things hidden from me. Too many. Where am I going?

"I've got the incentive right here." His strong voice pulls me from my daze.

"Well, I don't know about you," his friend begins to reply. I'm still walking and Doppler keeps me from hearing what the incentive is.

I'm cold, I cross my arms. They're missing something. The wind blows gently. Whispers to me. Tells me lies. Tells me truth. Chills my soul.

I move horizontally through space and time. Breezing through existence. What's left of it any way.

My eyes burn. I close them to drive away the tears. I see her face. I shutter.

"Dude, when need to go if we're going. I mean like now."

"Hold your horses jeez."

Frat boys. Count on them to pull you out of your mind. They are so loud and all over the place. I just want to be alone. Alone in my head. With my thoughts. With my lonely memories. Even the painful ones. Drink somewhere away from me. Don't remind me of the bittersweet escape of alcohol.

It burns so good. Down my throat. Burning like the pain in my heart. It drowns me. Drowns me like these emotions do. It takes my breath away. Gasps me like this winter chill. It causes delusions. Delusions of dryads dancing. But there is nothing feminine about the liquor.

You can keep it. Keep your loud frivolity. Keep your crutch. I don't need it any more. It's cost me the one thing I truly ever loved. My personal Daphne.

"Damn you Peneus." I scream. "What are you staring at?" the words escape my mouth like yellow bile of discontent. The passer-by runs off.

What have I become? _a salamander_

How did I let this get so fucked? _slowly crawling like a turtle_

The rain is up again. No drizzle this time. A torrential down pour. Each wet drop on my flesh tears at my soul. Reminding me of my mistake.

"Pythagoras where are you?" I ask to no one in particular. And no one answers.

It figures. No ideas. No good ones. Not any more.

No pentagrams left for me.

My five points are gone.

Five. Can I really sum her up in five points?

The hum of a moped draws me from my thoughts again. I look up in time to be splattered as the two wheeled vehicle speeds through a puddle in the concrete. I yell obscenities in their general direction.

Does anybody hear me? _ghost_

There is something strangely familiar about this place. I've been here before. But I can't remember when or why? Where was I? I was thinking about—That tree! I've sat beneath that tree before!

Mud is running up my legs as a investigate this repressed memory intruding my brooding.

Ah! I remember. I remember two things. I remember what I was thinking about and why I know this place. The answer is the same for both.

Spencer Carlin.

Can I sum her up in five points? I trace a finger along one side of the star carved in the laurel. "**Passion**". I say. No one hears me. Fire courses through my blood remembering her taste. Her touch, her smell.

"Ashley," her tender voice cooed. "I don't think I could love you more now if I tried."

"Well, the feeling is mutual." I replied as I ran my fingers down her bare back. "Tell me what you want Spencer."

"I want to go wherever you are taking me."

"Where is that?"

"Bed, I hope," her angelic smile melts my heart. A rarity.

I remember breathing her in. Going dizzy. I lovingly disrobe her. Igniting a hidden lion with in me. She loves it. She lets me lead. Lets me take her to the places I want to go. I nip at her. I drink in her flesh. She moans with pleasure. My hands run down her sides. She squeals in delight. I'd grown to love that sound. Knowing no one else had ever had her this way. Knowing that I am the only one to touch her, tease her, please her in this way.

And she knew she was the only one that I'd ever had this passion for. She was the only one whom I could spend hours laying, learning what each other's bodies where for. Drinking it in. I have never gotten enough of her. I never will.

I run my hand down the second side "**Stability**." Why am I talking to myself? Am I crazy? I may be now. With out her. I've lost my footing. I'm such an idiot. She was my concrete and I let her go. How? How did that happen? When she was always so there?

"Ashley, It's going to be okay."

"No Spencer its not. Daddy is gone. What am I going to do? What am I going to do? He was the only thing I have. Now I have nothing."

"Just breathe. That's all you have to do for me Ash. Just breathe."

"How can it be this morning? How can it be this morning that I talked to him? How?"

She put her hand on my back. She rubbed me gently. But she said nothing. "I'm so selfish. I should have been there with him, not here. I should have been there. It should be me that's dead not him. Why is it him?" She only rubbed my back. Only let me explode. Did the right thing. She did the right thing. And I loved her more for it. I loved her for her silence. The ground doesn't speak when you step, it's just there.

I drew my hand up the sideways mark **"Penetrating**."

"Ashley, I am your friend. I care about you and you are not going to disappear on me. Not now. Not with all we've been through."

"Spencer just go away."

"No Ashley. I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I want you to stop hiding from me." I sat there. Felt like ages. I didn't move. Barely breathed. I couldn't let her in. "Ashley you have to let me in."

"Spencer no I don't."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere until you do." Minutes flew by. I didn't budge. Neither did she. "Ash, you know I've got longer staying power than you."

She made me laugh. I opened the door to her. Her bright blue eyes made everything okay, and I didn't even have to speak.

I ran my finger across the middle line. "**Healing**." I spoke through tears, or is it rain, I'm not sure. You healed me in so many ways Spencer, and you don't even know it. Now I cant tell you. I cant tell you that I love you. That I've always loved you. You will be the only person that I ever love this deeply. Your soft touch. Your tender hands on my face. On my back. In me. You are in me, and I am a better person because of you. And you don't even know it. "**Reason**." I say as I draw the final line in the star.

"You can't keep doing this to me Ashley." Spencer cried. "This mind game you're playing with me it's getting old. I cant handle it any more.

"What game is it that I'm playing exactly?" I said coyly.

"That one" she pointed at me, "the one where you treat me like I'm stupid. Like I don't know what you've been up to."

"What have I been up to?" I was hoping I was calling your bluff. But you did know. And I was an idiot.

"I cant keep holding you up, if you're going to keep pushing me down."

She is so smart. She saw so many things. So many things that I didn't think any one would ever see. Her reason surpassed any one in my life. And it scared me. Here I stand in the rain, plagued with guilt. My finger lands in the center of the star. I place my whole hand there. Over our initials.

AD

SC.

Ditching a tour of the planetarium we came to this park. We'd been together for three months. We decided to make a public declaration. A star. A star shining in the night. Shining so bright that I can see it through my tear stained eyes. And I wonder. Why did I let this go? We were brought together by the cosmos. Gravity smashed us together.

How did we get torn apart?

Can I fix this? Can I fix us? Will you even give me the time of day after—

Would I if it would have been you? I have to try. I'll hate myself if I don't try. I want to try to be your quintessence. I want to try.  
I walk a little faster. Rain pouring hard on me. I think I'm running now. To where? I know exactly.

_J-Hall Second floor room 219._

God, I hope you are there.


	2. Chapter 2: Icosahedron

**Ch 2. Icosahedron (Spencer's Water)**

Ugh. Sunday morning. If there is one thing I hate more than Sunday morning it's Monday morning. I stretch out. It feels so good. Arms spread like an eagle ready to fly. If only these tridents weren't buried in my sides. Maybe I could fly. Six long months and I'm still caught in the waves.

I should get up. I should go out. I should walk in the park. I want to go for a swim, but the October chill makes it impossible.

I walk to the washroom to relieve myself. I turn on the faucet. Wash my hands. Again and again. I turn it off. I see myself in the mirror. I see this face. The one I wear today.

I turn the water on again. Wash my hands. Again and again. I see myself in the mirror. I don't like it.

I splash my face. It's the same.

"She would hate this hair cut." I say aloud. My voice fills the empty vacuum of this lonely apartment. Six months, no fresh air.

I look down. See the water swirling still. I wash my hands. Again and again. I turn the handle to the left. The flood becomes a spray, and then nothingness.

I look in the mirror. My hair, so short. Fluffy, all over the place. Like a child who's big brother ruffled it out of love or hate. Love and hate. Hate or love?

I turn the water on. I wash my hands. Again and again.

I lose my breath as my bare foot hit the kitchen floor. The marble is not as forgiving as the carpet. I grab the kettle. I feed my addiction. A healthy brew. Tea. My new healing ritual.

"Hello Pegaea," I say to my feisty little fish. "I'm sure you're hungry." I open the lid to her food. I give a few drops. Again and again. The light dances across her midnight blue and black body. I give her a few drops. Again and again. She swims up to eat. I give her a few drops. Again and again.

I bend down to watch her. I see myself in her tank. A new face. Two reflections? I look behind me. Ashley is not standing there. I look in the tank again.

The tanks tide catches me. Pulls me to another place.

"Hun, are you sure you want this one? It's ugly." She says with disdain in her voice.

"No its not Ash, its adorable."

"But Spence this one's pretty pink with yellow stripes. And this one is has a royal blue gradient to it."

"I like this one."

"Why?"

"You don't remember?" I smile as I remember her shaking her head in confusion. I giggle to myself, as I remember giggling at the memory. I like this face. The face in this memory.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing." I smirk again, just like the smirk I gave her that day. I move in remembrance of the playful nudge she gave me.

"Spill."

"Its just. It's the same as the one-" She didn't let me finish. Her face changed to embarrassment, I tried to suppress my laugh.

"Hey, that little fish was mean." She'd said in defense. Mock fear on her face.

"Ash," I could barely stop laughing. "it wasn't any bigger than your fist."

"Why are you torchering me?"

"Cause you're letting me." I grinned. "Its not everyday you watch your girlfriend be chased by a Siamese Fighting fish."

"It didn't chase me. It scared me." She gently pushed me.

"You swam so fast," I was laughing heartily. I was happy.

"You weren't exactly a calm duck yourself, there love."

"You hurt me."

"I didn't mean to it scared me." She protested with apology, "Now you want to take one of them home."

I didn't let her fraudulent tone daunt me. "I'd rather think of her as a memory of the heat that made her chase you."

Her face changed from a flesh tone to a bright red. "Can I help it if I cant get enough of you?" The momentary shyness in her face was replaced with a mischievous look of Silenus.

The next thing I knew my bare back was up against the cold glass in the corner of the pet shoppe. The fighting fish were stored in a room to themselves, at the back, so I never worried about getting caught.

Ashley kissed me deeply. Her hands found there way up my back, unclasping the strap that held me up. Her release set free my femininity. My blood pumped like the ocean surf as she drank deeply of my breasts. I was so cold and so hot at the same time. She kissed her way back up to my neck. And stopped. She pulled away.

"Hun don't stop." I begged.

"It's looking at me." She said warily. I turned to see her reflection next to mine. The little fighter between us.

"Woah," she cried.

"She cant see you down here." I pulled Ashley on top of me. And she regained her passion. She flooded me with her saliva. Tongue drawing circles, waves, bolts down my abdomen. She tore my jeans off me as though Dionysus himself were urging her on.

I scarcely think he had to. My moans of delight had that covered.

She gently ran her fingers up my inner thigh.

I could feel my fluids backing up within in me. The cold marble floor sent shivers through my body. Her's on top of me, inside of me coursed heat. My body was an oxymoron on the verge of explosion. Her fingers thrust deep with in me. Tongue trilling against my core creating sweet melodies like Pan.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it any more the river with in me bust through. And I let out a cry. She raced to fill my scream with her tongue.

I could taste our love.

It seemed so right. I panted for a few moments. Elation flooding my soul. When I found my voice I said, "Oh, we so have to get that fish now." She subscribed speedily.

A high pitch mist pulled me from my memory. I looked to the kitchen. Tea.

"Oh, Pagaea, we are diseased with out them aren't we?"

Again, the cold marble took my breath away.

I took out a glass. Replaced it. Took it out. Replaced it. Took it out. Filled it. Slowly I poured. Then a bit more. And a third time and a fourth and finished.

The sunlight drenched the blue tile on the the breakfast table. It's her favorite time of day. Memories of mornings on that table flood me. I stumble.

"What the?" I look down. No. I've made a mess. No no. I place the up on the table and return to fix the disaster on the floor.  
There she is. Six months and she is still here. But she's not. She will never be gone but she is. I've been trying to throw this box away for months. But I cant.

So many memories. So many faces. So many versions of us. I flip through the pictures in the box. If the tide could sweep me away I would let it. And it would wash me up to this memory. To this face. To this girl. I would be that girl again.

Before the tear escapes my ducts I put the pictures away. I collect the things that scattered. I reach over to put it all back and my had hits the pink ball and it rolls away.

I stand to fetch it. I smirk a little as I pick up Ashley's pink Magic D8 Ball. Only Ashley would put faith in a Tyco toy. Trusting the face of a little die swimming in blue liquid.

I shake my head. How did I ever love her? And why am I lying to myself now? I still lover her. Six months and I am doggy paddling with out her.

"Magic eight ball," I say shaking it gently. "Will it ever be right?"

_Reply hazy, try again._

"Magic eight ball, can I forgive her?"  
_  
Concentrate and ask again._

I breath in deep, "Magic eight ball, can I forgive her?"

_Cannot predict now._

"Magic eight ball, will she come back?"

_Better not tell you now._

"Magic eight ball," I say after several seconds. "Can we be fixed?"

_My sources say no!_

"Stupidly bloody toy," I say throwing it across the room. It smashes into the wall. I take a deep breath, and go to clean it.

There is a knock at the door.

I glace over. The knock is louder. I look through the hole. I cant believe what I see. I reach for the knob, but I cant turn it.

A louder knock, and I try to turn the knob. I cannot.

A louder knock, and "Spencer, its me, will you please open the door." The sound of her voice swells tears in my eyes.

I reach for the knob a third time.


	3. Chapter 3: Hot and Dry

**Ch 3. Hot And Dry (Ashley's Fire)**

I rap on the door again. I know she's there. I can hear her breathing. I rap again. I'm hesitant to speak. I don't want to frighten her. She is not my enemy ship. She is my Daphne.

"Spencer," I say with a crackle. I know she's standing there. I can feel her heart beat. Coursing out a rhythm. It's popping fast. I rap a little louder. "Spencer honey." I say.  
I wish I knew what she was feeling. I wish she would open the door to me. Did her blood boil when I said it? Mine did.

"Spencer, open the door please." I whine, "I want to see you." I do. I really want to be on the other side. Inside your purgatory. In side your agony. One I created, or at least fueled.

But it is not my place to push. So I stand here.

I stand with my fists clenched. Teeth gritted. Gritted, because I don't trust to open my mouth. I don't trust my open mouth. Or the wind that would gush from it. Pushing this distance forward.

My heart is pounding. A tiger trapped in a cage. It wants so to bleed for you. But I cant make you let it.

But I want to try.

I crack on the door. "Spencer," barely a whisper. Let me be your Apollo.

I hear the door unlock. First the sliding lock. Then the dead bolt. They lock again. Rage streams through my body. I hear the sliding lock undo again, and then the dead bolt. And they lock once more. A spark in me ignites as I hear the ritual for a third time.

I want to explode. Yell out all the things I'm sorry for. To place a mask on her face and rush her away from the toxic fumes. But I just stand. I am no lion. Merely a salamander. I am no where and she is everything. She is trapped. The room has long since flashed over. I wasn't there. How could I have been so stupid? I danced with the devil and all I have is hell to pay.

Don't flee from me. Punish me, Pandora, for stealing but do not let her flee. Dancing shadows play across the screen in my minds eye. My thievery. A plaguing demon. I stole from you. You're precious time. And now I stand alone. Embers dying. I want to be in with you. No longer standing out side the blaze. My souls rhythm is a crackle and pop. I hold my breath. Open your door to me.

My souls inferno rages as I hear her shutter from the other side. For the forth time the doors unlock. All is still.

I can no longer sense her. I cant hear her breathing. I cant feel her pulse against the wooden door.

I place a hand on the handle. Take a deep breath and turn.

There is a burning in my eyes and in my throat. She is an angel. Sitting slightly turned away from the door. Facing the hearth. I fight back the tears hard.

She's broken. Did I break her? I'm not sure. I mean, I surely didn't help. I wasn't there when she needed me. I ran away like a woodland creature from the brush fire. Fairy tales and happy endings over.

I let her down.

I walked slowly across the room. Everything is different than I remember. Slightly more organized. Perfect straight patterns triangles and squares.

I sit across from her. She says nothing. Fidgets. Pokes at the flames. Pokes at my heart. I want to grab her hold her. Tell her everything. But I cant move.

The tension in the room is growing to volcanic proportions. I know she wants to speak. Ask me why I'm here. Yell at me maybe. The red in her face turns to green and then blue.

I don't know if its anger or relief or sickness. Whatever it is, it's intense.

What am I doing here? I don't even know myself. Why did I come? The heat of the moment told me it was a good idea. Now I'm here I can't leave. Gods know I've done that enough to last a life time.

The cats got my tongue and all I can do is look at her. Long for her. She moves suddenly and it startles me out of my thoughts.

"Would you like a glass of water?" She asks. "You're throat must be getting dry from all the things you'll never say."

Where's she going?

Do I follow her?

The bedroom.

In the bedroom.

I cant go in there.

I don't want to.

Too many memories.

She slams the door, again drawing me from my mind.

Why am I still sitting here?

I sigh. Slump back in my chair. Watch the tiny embers die in to nothingness. Black soot resting on the red brick.

A breeze blows in, chills me, breaths final life in the remaining embers. And I remember our first night here.

"Spencer are you sure we cant wait for the landlord to come?"

"Yes."

"I think he'd be better equipped to do this."

"Hun your doing just fine. You just brush around and put the crap in a bucket."

"But Spencer its dirty."

"Well Ash it is a chimney." I remember her giggling. Me throwing last seasons muck at her.

"You would think," I remember the discontent in my voice, "they would have cleaned this thing out last spring."

"Is it that bad?" She had called from the bedroom. Somehow, she was unpacking clothes while I was unpacking grime.

"Spencer, it's like a black hole in here. Do I really have to do this today?"

"Well, you don't have too. Of course, we don't have to curl up by a fire and watch All About Eve."

I huffed at the suggestion.

"Singing in the Rain?" She asked. I remember grumbling at the thought. "What'd you say babe I couldn't hear you?"

She came bouncing out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a silk red shirt and black boxers. I remember getting dizzy, but not knowing if it was from the fumes or her.

"You know," she said whipping my face, "We could just watch Lady and the Tramp."

I playfully smacked her with the rag on my shoulder. She squealed and ran to the kitchen.

"Clean that up babe, and I'll put the popcorn on the stove."

"Why did I get put on soot duty?"

"Cause you don't know how to organize the closet. And grime looks better on you."

"Oh that's it Ms. Carlin," I remember running into the kitchen and chasing her around the table.

"Ash, Ash" she pleaded, laughter mixed with fear. But a safe fear. It made sense to me.

"No Ash, I just had a shower."

"Well you're going to need another one by the time I'm done with you."

"Ash, your making a mess."

"You're a mess."

"Nu uh!"

"Uh huh!" I chased her to the living room. She had kept running. I was too slow. She barricaded herself in the bedroom. Locking the door behind her.

"I'm not letting you in until you're finished brooding over the fireplace."


	4. Chapter 4: In the Ash Tree Meadow

**Ch. 4. In the Ash Tree Meadow (Spencer's Earth)**

She's here. I can't believe she's here. What is she doing here? I can't sit. I'm pacing.

Pacing.

Pacing.

She's just in there, doing nothing.

I cant breathe.

Pacing.

What does she want.

Everything is moving so fast.

I can't breathe.

She's just sitting there.

I cross to the white wood dresser. The straight grain makes me feel better. But I still cant breathe.

The room is spinning.

I'm spinning.

My brain is racing, but my body moves in slow motion.

What is she doing here?

Doing nothing that's what.

I open it. I reach out. Fast and slow. I close it.

I can't breathe.

I open the drawer again. I close it.

My heart is racing.

I open and close it again.

My brain is in overdrive. I can't function. Can't breathe. Can't think.

I open it again. I reach down. Grab the book, put it back. Grab the book, put it back.

I can't stop moving, I can't. I can't.

I grab the book, it back. Grab the book take it.

I sit on the bed. I flip the pages.

Where is it? Where is it?

I flip faster and slower. Faster and slower.

Where am I?

I'm walking. When did I start walking?

I can't sit. I can't sit.

Here. I found it. I found the picture.

My heart is pounding with the fierceness of stags hooves pounding the open field.

Tears are forming. They snake their way down. I sit.

Bury my head in the mound of pillows.

I'm up.

How did I get up?

The picture in my hand. I remember.

"Ash where are you?" I ask.

"I'm running late, babe, but I promise I will be there."

"You better be." I joked "We've been looking forward to this for a month. Dad's ready to go."

"I might have to meet you guys there, Hun."

"Ash, part of the fun is the ride up."

"Spence, I know but I just cant get away right now. I'm sorry. I'm doing my best to get there."

"Ashley you better. You can't keep blowing me off."

"Baby, I'm not blowing you off. I want to be there. I know how important today is to you. I'll be there I swear. Look Hun, I've gotta jet. Love you."

"Love you too." I hung up and sighed.

"She almost here?" Dad asked me. I gave him a look. A look that was becoming all to common when we spoke about Ashley. "Oh, Spencer."

"She promises she's going to meet us there."

"Well, we'll just have to take my car then."

I slam the book close. I'm spinning.

Spinning alone. Fast and slow

I hate this.

I hate me.

I hate that she's in there. A beetle borrowing into me. Larvae feeding on left over ashes.

This is not me. This is not me. What have I become? What have I become? I'm suppose to be hard. Tough. Very strong an elastic.

I'm not suppose to break. I'm high strength. And resilience.

I'm suppose to be the one who sustains quality.

I'm pacing. I don't even remember standing up.

Look at me. My insides are bleeding out of me like blue dye.

Cornus. Uranus. Cornus. Uranus.

Ashley you castrated me! I hate you. And your just in there sitting. Just sitting. Sitting.

I can barely get out of my bed. I can barely take care of myself.

You piss off for six months with out so much as a word. Now you're sitting in our house.

With out so much as a word.

Called me honey. I am not your sugary substance any more. I don't think I ever was.  
Why are you here?

And why can't I say this to you.

Because I'm weak. I'm broken. I can't even open a door on the first try. Or second. Or third.

A vinous fermentation of my former self. A deep color. Softened.

Deliquesces.

Nothing but shattered ground. Mud. I hurt. Cold. Dry. Nothing. Despondent.  
Black bile streams where blue blood once did. A shadow. A hypocrite.

I need medicine. But I'm afraid. What is there to fear Hippocrates? Father of med…father. My Father!

I break down into tears. I sob. Sob so loudly. Uncontrollable tornado of emotion leaves my soul.

I hear the door open as I drop to my knees.

"Spencer are you okay."

"No, no I'm not okay."

"Spencer," she runs to me. Puts her hand on me. I push away.

"This is your fault."

"Wha.."

"He's dead. And its because of you. And me. You and me. You and me. You and me."  
She puts her arm around me, I'm shaking so much I cant take her off. "I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him."

"Shhh. Shh. No you didn't Spencer. It was an accident."

"You, you, you, you." I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe I can't breathe.

"Me I know, I wasn't there. I should have been. I should have been driving not you. It's my fault Spencer not yours. If I had been there I could have protected you."

"Daddy, my daddy. My daddy. My daddy. Only person who ever cared about me. My daddy. Gone. He's gone. I killed him. I killed him. I did, it was me. I was driving. I killed him." I'm hyperventilating. Horizontally on the floor, I fall.

"My god Spencer are you okay?" I barely catch the last of her words as everything goes dark.


	5. Chapter 5: Hot and Wet

_**Ch. 5 Hot and Wet (Ashley's Air)**_

She looks so peaceful lying there on the bed. She wasn't as heavy to move as I thought she'd be. She's lost weight. I wonder if she eats like she should. If she gets the nutrients she needs? I wonder if she ever leaves this room.

Clay told me you weren't doing well, but I had no idea it was this bad. He told me about the routine of four that humors you now. Four times or you cant function.

My sweet, baby what has happened to you?

I run my hand across her short blonde hair. She's a shell of herself. She's not in L.A. anymore. She's been blown to some place where roses and sunshine exist in imagination.

How do I get her back?

It feels so good to be sitting here, hand on her head. A heavy October wind gust through the room. I feel it on my face. It blows my hair. Takes me back. Back to a spring day. Before the twisting torment took hold.

We were driving. Driving in my car. Speeding through the open road, top down. I smile, as I remember.

The warm spring wind blew across my face as we speed across the desolate highway.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked.

"It's a surprise." I responded quickly.

"Well, are we almost there? We've been driving for hours."

"Nearly," I said, "You're going to love this."

"I just love being with you Ash. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Spencer, we live together."

"You know what I mean Ash." She said, putting her hand on my knee. "You've been at the studio non stop for the last three months. We never get to do anything alone any more."

"Well, we are today. I even left my cell at the house." She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, grabbed my right hand and intertwined it with hers.

A smile spread across my face.

"What?" she asked.

"You're going to love the new album."

She dropped my hand and huffed, "You said, no work."

"Sorry," I shrugged. "You just made me think about it."

"No. record, no studio, no fighting today, agreed?"

"Sounds like a plane to me."

She reached over to turn the radio full blast. The vibrations from the woofers sent chills across my skin. Her hand on mine coursed heat through my body. A huge smile crossed my face.

"What are you grinning at Ms. Davies?"

"How much do you love me?"

"This much," She joke holding her index finger and thumb an inch apart. I snatched my hand away and she roared with laughter.

"Oh, you think you're funny?" I stomped the gas as I rounded the corner of the mountain. She let out a squeel as she crapped the door handle. "Not laughing now are you?"

"Ash, please, Ash. Ash, slow down."

"How much do you love me?"

"This much," she held her hands out wide. As I slowed down she brought them a foot apart.

She giggled again, this time I dropped my speed to 10 miles per hour.

"Do you see me laughing Carlin?"

"No," she giggled. "This much." She said moving her hands slightly. I reached to turn the radio to a local Honky Tonk station, still creeping up the mountain side.

"Ash come on. I love you this much." She ran her nose up my neck and nibbled on my ear. Whispering all the things she would do to me later. My insides shuttered. I returned to a normal speed and put on our song.

Ten minutes later, I slowed down and took a left through the big white fence.

"Ashley, Oh, my God." Spencer squealed in delight. "Are you for real?"

"Yup. See I do remember things."

"Horse back ridding?"

"I know how much you love it so I thought I'd give it a try."

"Ah. Ash, you're the best!"

"Don't get too excited, babe. It's not open field horseback riding."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a group ride to the top of Blood Mountain."

"The top of a mountain?"

"Actually it's more of a rock."

"Rock?"

"Yeah. It's pretty cool if you're into all that rocky type stuffs."

"Geology?" She smiled.

"Yeah, that stuff."

"Well, it sounds great. It doesn't really matter to me as long as I'm with you."

"Well, then, let's go get a horse."

We stood listening to the rancher drone on about the place and its importance. When it was established, why the rock was such a big deal, and told a few corny jokes that only my grandmother would laugh at. Then he lead us around to the horses, started assigning people to them. I ended up with Calliope and Spencer with Hera.

"You look cute with that helmet on," she giggled.

"Thanks. You look cute most days too."

"Ah, Hey!" She spat, "one of these days, I'm going to one up you and you'll be left speechless."

"Ha. The day you leave me speechless, is the day I'll be your slave."

"It's coming Davies, it's coming."

"Get on your horse."

"Why, you afraid that day's going to be today?"

"No. That day'll never come, but the groups leaving, so get on your horse."

We mounted our horses, joined in line with the others, began riding up the mountain. The horses must have made that trip 20 times a day. They were like toy cars on a race track. Never deviating from the trodden path. It wasn't like horseback riding at all. They stomped up the mountain slowly and surely. No room for improvisation. I was bored in the first two minutes. I started making up songs in my head. Thinking about the new record and how it was going to seal us as rock legends. Rounding the bend I started listing off all the countries we were touring.

"Tyco's Star." I said.

"What'd you say, babe?" Spencer asked from in front of me.

"Oh, um, uh, nothing. Just uh, noticing things." She would have killed me if she knew I was thinking about the tour. I thought the Pr people had come up with a great one this time. It really captured us. Big, loud and exciting. Psychedelic. Mysterious. Everlasting-ish, long lasting at the very least.

"Ash?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you, what did you notice?"

"Oh, um. Nothing."

"Ashley." She said knowingly.

"What?" Was my sheepish reply.

The rest of the trek up was in silence. I tried so hard not to think about work. Just enjoy nature. The warm breeze on my face was very tranquil, and I decided to make the best of my last venture before life got crazy again. I really heard the birds, frogs, the hooves of the horses marching as one. And it happened again, natures rhythm pounded a song in my head. I was consumed by the song I was creating and didn't notice that the horses had stopped.

"Ash, you can get down you know." Spencer said, running off to see the view. "Wow, Ash, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Thank you so much for bringing me here." She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek then ran over to climb a tree.

"Damn, Spencer, get out of that tree." My heart was racing so fast watching her hang over the cliff. "Please, baby, get down."

"Take a picture first, then I'll get down." I snapped it as quick as I could, and went to help her down. Before I could get to her she'd jumped out and was off running towards a rock wall.

"Spencer, Spencer, don't climb that. Spencer!"

"Ashley chill out."

"You are too courageous for your own good, Spencer."

"Come one, Ash, it's just a little mountain."

"Spence, it's the tallest mountain in this area."

"Oh, shush, and live a little. A little improvisation never hurt any one."

"You're not improvising your being crazy."

"Just enjoy it Ash. We'll never be up here again. Take my picture."

Again, I did. And spent the next 30 minutes or so chasing her. I was very thankful with the rancher called for us all to mount our horses again to go back down, as she was about to do the most dangerous thing yet.

"Keith," Spencer called the rancher, "Would you mind taking a picture of us on our horses?"

"I'd love to," he replied.

We both mounted, and posed. It was the last picture of us before everything got crazy.

"Thanks, Keith."

An ear piercing boom covered his saying, you're welcome, then the bottom dropped out of the sky.

"Fuck," I said, "I had to wear a white shirt today."

"What?" Spencer cried "I can't hear you over the rain."

"Nothing."

The ride down wasn't nearly as boring as the ride up. Calliope, was a spastic horse. I guess she wasn't all about the rain either. She'd walk for a moment, drop behind a bit then would trot DOWN the mountain. Every time she did it, I'd scream, and Spencer would laugh.

"Just take it easy baby."

"Take it easy? This crazy thing is going to kill me."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I'll be as dramatic as I damn well please." She giggled at me.

"There's no stopping that I guess."

Once we got to the bottom, I jumped off of my horse and gave the rains to one of the hands at the stable. Spencer trotted hers in to the gate.

"If you go inside there," Keith said, "you buy souvenir shirts, since you're all soaking wet any way."

I grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled her to the car. "Just get in."

"But we're all wet."

"They're leather seats, they'll dry."

"Ash."

"Get in Spence."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'm wet and cold, and in a white shirt."

"But, we could have got a shirt—"

"Yes, but I'd still be cold," I cranked the car and turned on the heater.

"You're so hot when you're wet," Spencer whispered kissing me on my neck.

"Spencer," her breath was heavy on my neck, it was making me hot. The memory consumed me and I could almost feel her breath on my neck again.

I could hear her breathing heavy. Whimpering. Sighing, gasping for air. Chocking. I snapped from my memory as the noise crescendo-ed.

"Spencer, are you ok?"

She sputtered. Wheezed. Gasped.

"Spencer, baby." My heart was breaking watching her fight so hard to get air in her lungs. "Oh, my god, Spencer. Sit up. Sit up babe."

She gasped harder and harder, her face was turning red. "What do I need to do? Do you need water."

"I—can't—breath" She managed.

"What do I do?" She sputtered, choked, put her head between her knees. And after what felt like an eternity she returned to a normal cadence. Chest slowly rising and falling. I sat stunned. "Do you want water? I'll get you some water."

I ran to the kitchen, filled a glass and ran back.

She took it. Went through her routine, finally drinking. A bit dribbled down her chin and I was tempted to whip it away. But thought better of it.

"Why are you here Ashley?" She said looking at the floor.

I was stunned by the serious subject that was suddenly shared. Transfixed, I stood. Sweat dripping from my brow. I was speechless.


	6. Chapter 6: My Cross to Bare

**Ch 6. My Cross to Bare (Spencer's Aether)**

I reluctantly turned my gaze up to her face. Her mouth opened and closed like Pegaea when she eats her breakfast. "Well?"

She turned from me slowly, walking out the door.

"I knew it."

"What?"

"I knew you would do that."

"Do what?"

"Walk away. It's what you're best at right?"

Minutes passed and she said nothing. I knew that too. There were no words for this moment. Any moment after that day, or the weeks or months that passed. Or even the weeks, months before. "When did you become mute?"

She opened her mouth again. Nothing. She shrugged her shoulders. I rolled my eyes, pulled my knees to my chest. "The thing about you Ashley, is that you can never swallow your pride long enough to make it right."

She was stunned. Still not speaking. "I'm subtler than light now aren't I?"

"I was thinking, more like, as blunt as a brick to the head."

"Well, well, I'm conscious, and you can speak." I said walking to the window.

"Spencer—"

"What?"

Nothing.

"What Ashley? What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I—"

"Yes you, what?"

"Spencer."

"Yes, that's my name, what do you want Ashley?" I turned to face her. "That's your name."

"What's wrong with you?"

The nerve of her. "Right now, you being here, saying nothing, is wrong with me." I was getting worked up again and my breathing shortened, "You've said nothing to me for the last six months. You" I gasped, "said even less the two months before you disappeared."

"I didn't disappear."

Now I was speechless. What was she thinking?

"I didn't. I had to work."

"You," my brain clouded, "had to work?" Had to work, had to flee had to escape, had to run from me, abandon me. "You had to work?"

"Yes."

"You had to work? Had to work. She had to work. Work. Work."

"Yes, yes yes. I had to go work."

"Had to go fuck every groupie that came your way, is more like it." I sat with my head in my hands trying to catch my breath. I am going to be unmovable this time. She'll trick me if I can't catch my breath, find the clearing. "Lost your voice again, I see."

"Spencer."

"Yes! Ashley! I know my name."

"Spencer calm down."

"No Ashley, I will not calm down. Why are you in my house?"

"Our house."

I looked up at her. "Our? Our? Our house? Our house?"

"Yes, Spencer damn it this is our house."

"You haven't so much as stepped foot in this house since your Supernova and your calling this your house?"

"Ours."

"What?"

"Our supernova, our house."

"Our?"

"Yes Spencer."

"Is that all you can say? Yes. Spencer. Is that all you have big shot rock star?"

"Spencer—"

"See, that is all you can say."

"Its because you won't let me fucking say anything else before you interrupt me."

"Don't you dare make this my fault. This is your fault. Your supernova."

"We both went supernova Spencer and you know it."

"Is that what you call this? This pathetic excuse for a human being I've become?"

"You're not pathetic."

"How would you know? You've not been around for months. You've been off in the safety of a tour bus, or airplane, or hotel room with some slut."

"Spencer, I have not had sex with any groupie or any slut. Believe it or not, it kills me being apart from you."

"Then why did you leave?"

Silence.

"If it hurts so much Ashley, why did you leave me? I needed you. I needed you here. I needed you. In one day I lost the two people I cared most about in this world. You walked out on me, and I killed my father."

"You did not kill him, Spencer it was an accident." She said firmly. "I didn't walk out either."

"What?"

"I didn't walk out."

"What would you call it?"

"Giving you space to grieve."

"Space to grieve? Space? To grieve?"

"Yes."

"Then give me space now."

"What?"

"Give me space now."

"Spencer—"

"Get out Ashley. Get out. Give me that space you think I so desperately need."

"I don't want to."

"Well, I want you to. If you think I need space, Space? Then you need to leave." The circles in my head where spinning, rapidly gaining momentum, and I was being knocked off my orbit.

"I know I hurt you by leaving and—"

"And now you're hurting me by staying."

"Spencer, please let me make this right."

"Ashley, you've lost all right to ask requests of me. Leave."

I have no idea where this feisty-ness is coming from. Pent up aggression from the last 2 years of our relationship maybe? Anger and hurt from the last 8 months. Fear of the next 6 minutes. I don't know. Ironically, this is the most I've spoken since my fathers' funeral and my words are wasted on a deserter.

"If you can't be rational," she said, "then the only thing I can do is leave you alone, but I will not leave. Not this time."

"This is my house, and I want you to leave."

"This is our house. And I'm going to stay."

"Ashley."

"Spencer, who pays the bills?"

"Go ahead Ashley let your money talk for you. It wouldn't be the first time."

"What does that mean?"

"It's not going to work this time though, because this isn't your problem. This has nothing to do with you. I did this, I have to deal with it, and I have to fix it. Not you. So stop trying."

"Fix what? What are you talking about now?"

"My family. You can't fix my family."

"Spencer, you are my family, and I want to fix you."

"Well you can't. I killed my father, and I have to live with that. And you have to leave."

"Spencer, it was a car accident. Accident, you did the best you could, but accidents happen. It sucks, but it was still an accident so stop blaming yourself."

"I blame you." I started pacing. "You Ashley, you promised to go with us. You promised you'd be there. You promised. You promised. You promised."

I paced faster. Faster

I can feel it coming. It's coming fast. The matter in my brain is spinning fast around itself and the matter outside of me is slowing down. I don't want it to come, not in front of her. If the panic consumes me before I get her out she will never leave. My heart's racing faster than a comet. I think it may explode from my chest this time.

"Please, leave," I begged.

"Spencer—"

"Ashley," I can feel the tears in the back of my throat. "Please?"

"When can I come back?"

"What?"

"When can I come back?"

"You can't."

"Spencer you can't hide from me forever."

"Why not, you did."

"I'm here right now. What more do you want from me?"

"I wanted you to be there then! I wanted you to care then!"

"I'm here now, let me try."

"You can't get back what you threw away."

We stood in silence for what felt like an eternity. It was only broken when I let out a small giggle.

"What?"

"You're speechless."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to leave."

"Spencer,"

"No, you're speechless, and I want you to leave. Leave. You have to, you have to leave."

She hung her head and walked slowly out of the bedroom. I followed her. She paused before opening up the front door. "I'm not giving up." And with that she was gone.

I went behind her immediately and locked the door. "Mom."

I unlocked it, locked it again, "Glen"

I unlocked it, locked it again, "Clay."

I unlocked it, locked it again. "Me."


	7. Chapter 7: Thales Dipped a Little Deeper

_**Ch 7. Thales Dipped a Little Deeper **_**(Ashley's Water)**

I trudged slowly down the steps silently, feeling defeated and empty. I don't know what I was expecting. A torrent of thoughts flood my brain. I don't know if I've done the right thing, and I'm not sure if I can go back there. I was wading so hard just to keep up with her. I have absolutely no energy now. I've been sucked dry. I have no clue what to do next.

My heart is still upstairs.

My head is swimming in the 'what could've been's', and the 'what should be's'.

I'm on autopilot. My feet carry me to Thrace, and I let them. I push open the door with out looking up. It's been so long since I've been here but my feet remember the way. To the booth at the back on the left.

I sit, and a calm wave washes over me.

I hear his feet softy swishing on the hardwood floor. I don't even look up.

"Hi, Cicero."

"There's my favorite singer. I wondered if you'd forgotten your old pal."

"No, Cicero, I could never forget you." He sits down across from me and I am forced to engage with the old man. "How've you been?"

"Well, have been very well. Not quite the same around here with out you, though." He sits a pint in front of me. "The usual for you Ashley."

"I see you haven't forgotten me either Cic."

"Never. You and Spencer are my favorite girls."

"Spencer's my favorite girl too."

"Say, I haven't seen her in some time. Is she alright?" I nodded my head in an undecided way. "Shame what happened. Good thing she's got you to take care of her."

Silence takes over as I ignore his last statement. But this old man is too sharp for me and he chimes back in, "You are taking care of her?"

I'd rather be drowning in the Mediterranean, than facing Cicero right now. "I make sure she's taken care of."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, she has a place to live, and never has to see bills."

"There's more to it than that Ashley." I ignore him. Take the glass in front of me to drown out the last few hours. But he doesn't let me get off the hook that easily. "Taking care of someone means being there for them Ashley. Have you been there for her?"

"In the physical way you mean, no, Cicero, I haven't."

"Why on Earth not?"

"I had to work."

"You couldn't balance the two?"

"Cic, it's hard to be there for her while I'm in Rome."

"Did your tour go well?"

"Yeah, it was awesome. I saw so many wonderful place, met a lot of great people. Tyco's Star was the best tour ever."

"I'm glad to hear that," his tone is not lost on me. There is disappointment in his voice. I won't lift my head, because I can't meet his gaze. I know the tears will fall if I do.

Mine or his. His or mine. Our tears. Both of us. Yes, both of us. He was in my shoes once too. He expects better of me. I don't know why.

"It's the principle of all things, because there is no difference when you love some one." He wanders away for the moment, and I'm glad that he does. I fear a nugget of wisdom isn't far behind, and I'd rather just be drinking. I'd rather be drinking? Yeah, I'd rather be drinking.

I sit for some time contemplating calling Clay. Maybe he can help me get Spencer to open up a bit more. I ring his number, but I only get his machine.

I leave a message.

The power of living things to act.

It's sad and pathetic. I'm pathetic. I never should have left her to face her grief alone.

The power of living things to act. pfff

"Ashley?"

"Yeah, Cic?"

"You've changed some how."

"No, I haven't Cicero, I'm the same Ashley that use to come in here every night for a pint."

"You look like her. I'm not convinced that you are her."

"I haven't changed Cicero!" I get angry at him. I don't mean too, but I do.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Love."

"Why are you making me feel like there is?"

"I'm not. You're making yourself feel that way."

"What does that mean?"

He picks up my pint and slowly pours it into the empty tumbler in his hand. "If an object changes, is it the same or different?"

"The beer doesn't change Cicero, it's still beer." I'm not amused.

"Ah, the substance is saved, but the qualities change."

My blood is raging like a hurricane at the things he is implying and I yell "You experience what I have the past 12 months and see if you stay the same."

"I bet," he says undaunted, "our friend Carlsberg feels the same."

He puts my pint back down and wanders off to the bar. Now people are walking away from me.

I start thinking of the words I should have said when I was up there.

I wonder if I just lost my only chance to make it better.

I think maybe I did.

I sink down in my chair.

I wonder what she's doing up there. Is she okay? I wonder if should I go back up.  
But.

I drink.

I don't move.

I sink further into my chair.

I'm making this harder than it should be.

I should be able to say all the things I need to say.

She should hear them. Forgive me. It should be that easy.

But it will never be that easy again. She'll never let me in. I've lost her.

She should here me. Forgive me. It should be that easy.

I should be able to say all the things I need to say.

I'm making this harder than it should be.

I sink further into my chair.

I don't move.

I drink.

More

"Have you just been to see her?" Cicero's words hit me like the mornings cold mist.

I nod my head, cause I'm not really sure what to say.

"How is she?"

I don't respond. Partly because I don't know, mostly because I don't want to talk about it. I'm still trying to process it all

"Clay comes by every now and then. He tells me she's not doing very well. Says she misses you. Says she's drowning"

I pull the glass up to my face. _That makes two of us._

He walks over to me firmly this time. His steps make concentric circles in my pint.

"Ashley!" He slams his hand on the table and a drop of beer splashes me in the face.

"What?" I spit back at him.

"How can you expect to know anything of the Spencer, if you don't even know what's happening on the earth at your feet?"


	8. Chapter 8: Prometheus Where Are You?

**Ch 8. Prometheus Where Are You? (Spencer's Fire)**

Who does she think she is? Who does she think she is? I can't believe she thought she could just show up here unannounced. Who does she think she is? Who does she think she is? I'm struggling to catch my breath. The wind she let follow her in has sparked so much in me. My insides are shaking. Burning. I want to explode.

I've got to get her out of here. I've got to get her out. I have to. I have to get her out. The smoke she blows makes me dizzy. She makes me dizzy. The smoke she blows. I have got to get her out of here, she makes me dizzy. Dizzy, she makes me so dizzy. I can't stand up. Dizzy. She makes me so dizzy I can't stand up.

My knees hit the ground hard. My head falls on my lap. I'm shaking. Cold. I'm shaking. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. My eyes are burning from the tears. She hurts me that's all she does. She hurts me. She comes in and walks away. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

I've got to get rid of her. I've got to get her out of here. She's got to be gone. I walk in to the kitchen and pick up the box of Ashley on the floor. I put it back. I can't do it. Yes I can. I pick it up again. I can't do it. Yes I can. I pick it up again. I can't do it. Yes I can. I have to. I pick it up again.

I walk over to the hearth. I put the box down. Pick it up, put it down. Pick it up, put it down. Pick it up, put it down.

I'm going to burn every piece of her. Exorcise this demon. I pick up the first log and place it in the fire place. It's not straight so I do it again. It's still not straight so I do it again. It's still lopsided. Lopsided like my heart is with her in it. I do it again and it's finally straight.

I'm going to get rid of every memory of her. Every thing that smells like her, everything with that toxic fume of indifference. I take a second log and place it next to the first. If she thinks she can be a part of my life right now she's wrong. I pick it back up. I don't want her here, she hurts me. I place it again. All these memories all these happy place I use to be, I'm going to burn. Purge myself. I take the log again. I'm going to be done with this dance once and for all. I pick it up again. That stupid smile of hers won't melt my heat this time. I place it again. I will incinerate every scrap of paper that bears her name. I pick it up. She can't keep doing this. I've got to let her go. I place the second log.

"When did everything get so fucked up?" I say aloud to fill the empty vacuum of the room. I can't let her go, I can't. I love her I'm lost with out her. When she was in here I felt connected. Connected in anger maybe but connected to the earth. Oh, oh but then what did she do? She just walked out.

"You told her to leave" says the little devil on my shoulder. I swat him a way with four quick motions and grab the third log. I place it. She's confusing to me. She's always been confusing to me. I pick it up. How can one person make me so happy and hurt me so badly at the same time? I place it again. I pick it up. Place it, pick it up. I scream a long loud bloodcurdling scream. I have got to get her out of me! I place it again.

She sings those sweet songs and she says they are to me, but they keep her from me. I pick up the fourth log. "Ashley, damn it, you're under my skin you salamander." I place it. You are a falcon. Beauty and tragedy. You tear with your talons at my heartstrings and I can't breathe. I pick it up. I want to go in to this fire myself. Why can't I be a phoenix? Why can't I burn myself up and start over from the ashes? I put it down. I just want to start my life all over and not have you in it. I think. I pick it up. The soft summer breezes in my minds eye are blowing. Memories flood me and I think maybe it could be all right if I gave you another try. But then the wind stops, and the sun scorch my skin. I place it. The breeze blows again, and I catch your scent. How can I do this how can I burn your memory? I pick it up. The hard log in my hands bring, I don't know, something in me. I want to scream. And you're gone your smell is gone, as I remember you walking out the door. A acerbic sulfuric acid fills my nostrils and I place the log a forth time.

I reach for the lighter. With four quick motions I bring forth the blaze. I am going to do this. I am going to do this. I am going to do this. I am going to do this.

I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't.

But I have too. If I'm going to fix myself, I've got to eradicate the mischievous sprite. I've been holding the flame up to the log and I didn't even realize it. This is no time for a panic attack. This is no time for a panic attack.

"Fucking bring it on you fucking panic attack. I'm not afraid of you" I say aloud. "If I can face her after all these months, you are nothing. Fucking bring it on."

I pick up the box of Ashley. And I hold it in my hand I have to do this, if I want piece of mind.

No you don't.

What?

You don't.

My insides are being pulled. Tension of opposites. The thing you should do is pulling you one way, and the thing you have to do is pulling you the opposite. Until you think you might explode.

I try to place the box the first time.

Don't do it.

What?

Don't.

Tension of opposites pulling me in converse directions. "Bring it on you fucking panic attack"

I take the box back.

Burning her won't make you happy.

Yes it will.

No it won't

I try to place the box again. Nothing can stop me. I'm on a train track going 800 miles an hour and when my minds made up I can't be derailed.

I try to place the box a second time.

You'll regret it.

No I won't

Tension of opposites. Pulling my brain. Inside of me. "Bring it on you fucking panic attack."

I try to place the box a second time.

Those are the only copies of those pictures.

I don't care.

Yes you do.

No I don't.

Then why haven't you placed in the fire already?

Tension of opposites. "Bring it on you fucking panic attack."

I try to place the box a third time.

Spencer, she loves you.

No she doesn't.

She does so or she wouldn't have come here.

She does not or she wouldn't have left.

You have never asked her why she left.

I shouldn't have to.

Then you shouldn't assume she doesn't care for you.

Tension of opposites. Inside my head, pulling me. "Bring it the fuck on!"

I reach back to throw the box full in to the fire.

"Spencer," a loud knock on the door. "Spencer, it's me Clay, open the door please."

Oh, Clay. You've interposed my train of thought. Box in hand I go to let him in


	9. Chapter 9: ‘Muse Me Orpheus

**Ch. 9. 'Muse Me Orpheus (Ashley's Earth)**

I'm not entirely sure how long I've been sitting in this booth. I'm guessing a while. I've got that pens and needles feeling in my left leg from sitting on it and an empty pint in front of me. I'm starting to doze a little, so I'm sure it must be after one. I should leave but I don't want to.

It's been a long day. A long night. I just want to sleep. Let the world revolve around this nightmare for one more day. I know Cicero will let me stay here, wouldn't be the first time. He's been kind enough to spare me words these last few hours, but I can tell he's itching to put his two cents in.

I'm pretty sure I want to let him. But I won't just tell him that. And at this point he won't just offer it up. We've done this dance before, Cicero and I. He's had more practice so he's a better leader, but I've picked up a few tricks. I'll beat out my own rhythm, to my own song in my head. He's too old to keep time and he knows it. It's a sloppy drunken beat but it's working for now.

I've got this nice spin going like Ixion. This swing kicks me back to another time, another day in Thrace. It was the first time I spent the night in the bar. I was a wide eyed 22 year old on the verge of change and I was scared to death; and running. Hmm, running, I think I'm starting to see a pattern here.

"Cicero," I banged on his door that night. "Cic, let me in please."

"Ashley, what on Earth its 4 am."

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in come in," He said in that fatherly way he has. "What's going on."

"Spencer."

"What about her?" He asked, "Is she okay."

"Fine she's fine. She's, it's, she just, I mean, I dunno, I wanna. I just"

"Ashley calm down. You're not making any sense."

"I'm sorry Cic, It's just—I'm a little—I mean I can't—she wants—I don't know if I—Cic I'm freaking out."

"I can see that," He chuckled.

"Not funny. Not helping. At all."

"Well if you would give me some adjectives I could try to help you."

"I'm sorry—I just can't quite get the words out of the back of my mouth."

"Just take your time. I'll get you a drink."

"Cic, I love her so much."

"I know you do Ash."

"But she's talking about something I'm not sure I can handle."

"Well, tell me about it."

"She wants us to move in together, after the tour."

"Yes, and."

"She wants us to be married."

"No she doesn't."

"Cicero!"

"Ashley, don't you think you're putting a little too much pressure on yourself?"

"No! Well, yes, maybe. I don't know."

"Why are you so afraid?"

"I don't know." He raised a quizzical eyebrow at me. "I don't! I'm not ready to be married."

"Did she ask you to marry her?"

"No, but she—"

"But nothing, Ashley. Just No. Full stop."

"Cicero, she wants to come on the tour with me."

"Well that's great. You'll be able to see if you can live together with out being bound."

"Cicero, she is going to give up everything she knows about life to come tour around the country with me."

"And you're not happy about this?"

"Cicero, do you realize how big that is."

"It's only as big as you make it."

"But Cic,"

"No but's Ashley. Full stop."

"I love her so much Cic but what if she hates life on a tour bus."

"Then she hates touring."

"But I can't let her give up her life."

"Will you stop trying to qualify her feelings?"

"Wha—I'm not trying."

"If she wants to do it. Let her do it. Don't try to control how much she loves you."

"I'm not I'm just—"

"No, just, full stop."

"Cic, you're suppose to be on my side. You were my friend first."

"I'm on the side of a happy stress free life." He smirked putting on some of his favorite music from the old country. I rolled my eyes at it. "If there's no reason to be all freaked out then don't be. Just relax and let life go."

"Cic, that's not helping. What if we break up and—"

"Ahh," He screamed. "You love Spencer full stop. No if's no just's no but's. Just full stop!"

"Yeah, but,"

"Ahhh. Full stop. No but. I hope something I've said tonight resonates in that thick head of yours. Just let the girl feel how she feels and be done with it."

"Will you turn that crap off?"

"Ah," He said hurt. "No. I love this music full stop." He walked over and turned the music up louder. My memory is so taking over me I can hear the music loud like it is happening now. And then I get it. He's playing that same cd again, and for a moment the spinning in my head is calmed by his lyre.

"Ashley, Clay's here to see you?"

My world stops spinning when I see the older Carlin before me. He doesn't say anything, just looks at me. I see it in his eyes, he doesn't have to say a word. _let the girl feel how she feels _Cicero's voice echo's in my head. I know what Clay wants. I know why he's here.

He turns on his heals and heads out the door.

I'm two steps behind.

He's half way up the stairs before I let mine follow him there.

I will not look behind this time.

I will not look back.

I will move forward.

I will not doubt.

I love Spencer. Full stop.

I will not look over my shoulder.

I take the final two steps at once. Eyes never leaving Clay's back.

I walk a little faster. Prouder at the resolution in me. Glad I only had the one pint. He's already knocking on the door.

I lose my breath for half a second but quickly regain confidence.

Spencer unlocks the door. My eyes never leave the knob.

Spencer locks it again.

But I don't budge.

Spencer unlocks the door again. And locks it.

I'm a rock this time, I will not look back.

Spencer unlocks and locks the door a third time.

My breath sputter, but my eyes stay focused.

Spencer unlocks and locks the door for the fourth time.

I reach out my hand to turn the handle but as I do, she locks the door a fifth time.


	10. Chapter 10: Pure Substance

**Ch. 10. Pure Substance (Spencer's Air)**

I feel a little uneasy, sitting here at this table, holding this stone in my hand. It was the cause of the first of many scars, the only noticeable one. Probably the best one. It's the only scar that makes me smile. Times like these I hold it in my palm and stroke it gentle with my forefingers. A breeze blows past my face. I close my eyes and take as the sweet memory's jut out.

"Spencer," she called to me quietly.

"Yeah, babe?"

"What's one thing you've always wanted to do with your life?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Just curious, that's all."

I sat contemplative for a moment, watching the trees sway then said to her, "I don't know that I've ever really thought about it."

"What? Come on, of course you thought about it."

"Nope," I answered surely. "I mean there are things that interest me and things I think would be fun to do, but I don't really think about what I want to do with my life."

"Spencer, you're one of the most put together people I know, and you're telling me you've never thought about what you're going to do when you get your degree?"

"Pretty much."

"Liar."

"I am not." I nudged her playful off the blanket and in to the grass.

"You are so." She said a little more firmly, "You can't possibly tell me you don't know what you want to do with your life."

"All I know, is every time I try to plan it out, it goes to shit. But when I just sit back and let it happen, it's beautiful." She seemed content with my answer and let the subject go. "I'm glad we came out here today. I love Callaway in Spring. Dad brings us camping out here every year. It reminds me of when we were kids growing up in Ohio. Next time he brings the family up, will you come with me?"

"I'd love too," she grinned. "You know, I could think of no better place to be today." She grabbed me and pulled me on top of her in the meadow. Her hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a gentle kiss.

I remember it was no time before that kiss became hot and wet, and it was a long time before I pulled away from it, "What's so great about Wednesday, Ash?"

The look on her face was classic, I tried very hard to contain my laughter.

"Nothing," she said hurt, "just the third or forth day of the week, ruled by Mercury and you're forbidden to eat f—"

I filled her mouth with mine and ran my hand down her side to her waist. She whimpered under me when my hand hit the exposed flesh of her lower abdomen. I rested it there, drawing lines back and forth with my thumb. I tangled my hand in her hair as I sat on my knees so that I could pull her up with me without ever breaking the kiss.

When I pulled back this time, I wrapped my arms around her waist, looked straight in to those chocolate brown eyes and whispered "Happy Anniversary."

"I thought you forgot," she confessed.

"Four years is not easy to forget," I told her, she laughed and we went back to kissing. The sun was setting behind us and the sky, like a mood ring, was changing its color from a pale blue to dark blue, and midnight in the distance. I remember thinking, as she rolled me over, that I'd never seen a more beautiful gradient in all my life.

I remember gasping as she blew in my ear, and then gently bit my neck. She took her time that evening, as if it was the first evening our bodies had ever touched. I don't know if it was because we were surrounded by trees, or if it was the wind, or the sound of the crickets lullaby, or that night, but ever time she touched me shivers raced through me. Ever time I touched her electricity shot thorough my body. My sense of touch had never been so in tune. And the slower she went the more invigorating it became.

I can't recall her having taken off my shirt, or unbuttoning my pants. The thing I remember most clear, like it was yesterday, is her nose running down my torso. It started with her biting my neck. She dropped her head down to my shoulder. And almost as if she was taking in my scent for the first time she moved her nose down my collar bone. Down and around my left breast.

She drew soft circles round my nipple, the slowly moved to the right, where she repeated the action. Very selectively she kissed me, taking her time, choosing her moments carefully, but mostly she just slid her nose across my skin. She moved further down my body.

I was on fire. It was hot, I was wet, but I didn't want to rush this moment, I didn't want to think about it or decided what should happen, I wanted it to just be. To just be beautiful.

So I reveled in it. Tried not to beg for what I wanted. She knew that already. I let the sensation take over me, let the moment drive me, drive her. The tension and anticipation was killing me, but it was so beautiful.

When she dropped her nose in my navel, I exploded. I let out a loud guttural moan. And when I felt her smile in to my stomach I knew I was on Olympus and this moment would forever be burned in to my psyche as the best moment of my young life so far.

So she continued, slowly, lovingly until I burst like the jet stream under the tropopause. My breathing was quick, my noises high pitched, and I was oh, so very dizzy. Twisters of emotion were flowing out of me. Out of my mouth, my chest, my soul, and my core. Sweet, and beautiful, the way it was meant to be.

I felt a slight tingle on my right knee, and thought, to myself: More?

But it wasn't Ashley touching me. "Spencer," She whispered in child-like awe, "look."

I opened my eyes to see a small blue butterfly perched on my knee. It was facing Ashley, showing me his brilliant back. The top tips of his wings were a deep midnight blue, fading in to royal and finally baby blue. And on his bottom wings were fourteen little black circles filled with the most radiant yellow I had ever seen. A tear ran down my cheek, and when I laid my head back on the ground, he flew away. But his beauty remained.

I lay there for a moment, still reeling with passion and love and beauty, and wholeness, togetherness. Once my breathing stabilized, I wasn't as gentle. And I did not take my time. I pounded in to her with force equivalent to that of Edmonton. I was a sidewinder and a multiple vortex, and she loved it. I know, she told me, a few times. A gustnado and a waterspout. I know, I felt it, a few times. A fire wheel and a dust devil, again and again, again and again. I mean, who was I to deny what she was asking for?

As she came down in climax, and I came down in exhaustion, I landed hard beside her.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" she cried as I yelled in pain.

My arm had come down hard on a reddish brown and yellow rock. Titanite the park ranger told us. I was bleeding but not too bad. I was startled more than injured. But she cleaned me up, and dressed my wound. Kissed me on the top of the head. She packed up the camp, I pocketed the mineral. She took me home.

Every day we were apart after that, I would carry the little stone. Rubbing it gentle with my thumb. I'd be reminded that not all scars are bad. Reminded of the way the wind blew that Wednesday. The trees, the wet grass on my legs, the animals talking to the night, the way her touch drove me crazy, and that she would always be there to dress my wounds.

A knock on the door pulled me for m my day dreaming. I know Clay is there knocking. I unlock the door, and lock it back. I've memorized the sound his weight makes on the door. I unlock the door and lock it back. He's the only one who knocks on the door's left side. I unlock the door and lock it back. He's the only one who only knocks twice, then waits for me. I unlock the door and lock it back. But I can smell her standing next to him. I unlock the door a final time.

When I open it, all I see is messy brown locks, and chocolate brown puppy eyes staring back at me. A little wind blows my soul, I think I just smiled.

"Come in," I say, in no distinctive way. She does, and I shut the door.

When I turn to face her, I'm surprised to see her facing me as well. We stare deeply for a moment. I can tell she's trying to read me, but I haven't quite decided how I feel.

Her eyes dart away. She's looking at my hand. With a quick motion she pulls her gaze back up to mine, "Spencer I—"

"Shhh," I say putting my finger over her lips, "Don't say anything.


	11. Chapter 11: Black Matter

**Ch. 11. Black Matter (Ashley's Aether)**

Every muscle in my body tensed up. The click of the lock echoed like a demon screaming in my ear. Screaming all the things I secretly told myself every day for the last six months. Calling me foolish. Calling me selfish. Calling me a loser. Impatient, coward, a runner.

I've been running so far so fast I didn't even feel my legs move. I'm very aware of their weight right now. They feel like two fallen twigs about to break under the pressure of a lone hiker. I feel like I could be snapped in half by the mere gaze of her. And I ask myself, is there any use in coming back?

I'm spinning in my own thoughts and its not until I hear his foot steps on the door that I snap to again.

"You're going?" I ask him with a whine in my voice.

He only nods his head.

"Why? No don't leave!"

"You know all the answers Ash. And you're realizing them as you go."

"Clay," I shook my head on the verge of tears.

"True strength is being able to hold it all together when everyone else is expecting you to fall apart."

"But Clay, I can't—"

"Nothing shapes your life more than the commitments you choose to make. They can develop you or destroy you; but either way, they will define you." He turned and continued down the stairs and I started after him. My head was spinning at the idea of facing her on my own. From the bottom of the stairs he called back, "You have to find the definition yourself Ashley."

I stood there dumbfounded staring at the steps. The circular twist of the knob snapped me back in to this moment and out of this fantasy I've been creating. It may be a week before I understand what Clay said to me but I wont waste another second here.

She opens the door to me and I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off of me. Unsure of myself. I'm so unsure of myself. I walk in. Grace guide the words in my mouth. I turn to face her. "Spencer, I—"

"Shh," she says putting a finger to my lips, "Don't say anything."

I'm sure she caught the deer in headlights, just before she turned to walk away from me. I have no clue what to do now. She's totally thrown me off my rhythm with that. My eyes dart back and forth in the room; to the bookshelf, her library of complex simplicities that I never even tried to understand; to the fish tank with that stupid fighting fish she made me buy; to the hearth where a fire has just gone out; to the rug her mother gave us; to the bedroom; to the fighting fish; and the hearth; and the rug; and the fish.

"Come sit."

My head snaps back to the kitchen, there she sits, with two cups poured. I know one is coffee, and the other tea. Mine is black, and hers has a round slice of lemon floating on top. This moment has never changed. I walk toward where she is sitting. I resist the urge to smile. Here I am in our home again, our ritual together still in place. But I know it won't be that easy. I don't really even know what I'm expecting to happen here.

I sit down in my chair. She's sitting in hers'. I can't help it this time. A huge smile spreads across my face.

She's looking down at her cup. Thinking, of what I won't even try to figure out. She raises her head, instinctively mine goes down.

I'm staring at the coffee spinning in my cup. I can feel her eyes boring in to me. I can't help it, I smile again.

She snorts, and my smile fades. I look up to say something to her, hoping with all hope that the words will be there when I open my mouth. She's looking down. My eyes go wide, she's smirking.

I open my mouth to speak, but all I can do is breathe.

She picks up her spoon and jabs at the lemon.

I've never understood how something so sour can make tea taste sweet.

"I've never understood how something so sour can make tea taste sweet."

"You read my mind." I say as she makes five quick passes with her spoon, and then taps off the liquid five quick times, and with one swift motion place the spoon on the saucer.

Her bright blue eyes meet mine. I can't help it, I cry. The tears build up so fast. My pupils are swimming in circles of tears that are being moved by a force outside of me. A force that is bigger than both of us is guiding this moment. I close my eyes and let the tears fall.

I almost die when I feel her hand on mine.

I still can't speak. Not because I have no idea what to say, but because I cannot. Not because I don't trust the words, but because I cannot. Not because I don't want too, but because I cannot. Not because I want to tell her I'm sorry, and fear she won't hear me, but because I cannot. Not because I am afraid of how she will respond, but because I cannot. Not because I'm afraid of distance, but because I cannot. Not because I'm afraid of being brought close together, but because I cannot. Words just seem idle and trite.

I think she feels the same way; she squeezes my hand, and lets her thumb run clockwise on my knuckle.

I lay my forehead on her hand. I don't know what to do. I'm lost, and broken.

She puts her palm flat on my crown.

I start shaking.

For the first time in 48 hours, I don't want to say anything.

I don't want to speak.

I don't want to make it right.

I don't want to apologize.

I don't want to beg for forgiveness.

I don't want to plead my case.

I don't want to know what she's thinking.

I don't want to make her understand me.

I don't want to kiss her.

I don't want to be what we use to be.

I don't want to fill the air with noise.

I just want to relish in the silence.

I just want to be what we are.

I just want to have her hand on my head

I just want to understand the moment

I just want to hear her breathing.

I just want to let her see me broken.

I just want to forgive myself.

I just want to have forgiveness.

I just want to have what is right.

I just want to listen.

But she's not speaking. I giggle to myself, because I realize all I want is to orbit in her universe.

It's not me.

It isn't

It is not me.

For the first time, I think in my entire life, I realize, it is not about me.

She lays her head on her hand.

Electricity shoots through me.

There may be a buffer, but her head is on mine.

The silence is comforting.

We are two souls existing in the same space, being healed in time, existing together.

I'm finally okay with that. I'm finally okay with knowing, what was set out before us, will be what comes to pass. Love or leave, I am okay with it. All self pain aside, love or leave I will be okay.

I know what I want. But this isn't my choice. I can try every trick I know. But this isn't my dance. I'm not keeping time.

I will trust, in perfect timing.

I mean, time really deals with this for all of us; we just have to deal with time.


	12. Chapter 12: Five Points

**Ch. 12. 5 Points (Spencer's Pentagram)**

It's a cloudless day. I like that. My days have been increasingly cloudless since she came back six months ago. Some times I think it's her mere presence, others it's her sheer determination. Like she's proving to me that she's here in every possible way now and she's going nowhere. I have not made it easy for her. Hell it's not easy for me. Leaving the bedroom was a challenge; now I'm sitting under this tree in this park, feeling the wind on my face. The sun is invading my senses, releasing endorphins. I'm self medicating.

I have her to thank for that. I'm finally willing to admit it. All the things, all the things I hated, all her bad points don't seem so big any more. They're there still, just not as overbearing as they once were. It still drives me crazy when she sings at the top of her lungs in the shower, but her harmonies are syncopated with the beating of my heart. They're always the bands new songs and that's still a sore spot, but they're songs she wrote for me. Love pours out of every quarter note and triplet.

She still throws her clothes in a pile on the floor, mixing the darks and whites. And that's okay, cause now everything is grey and I am not alone. Still drinks her coffee black. I wake up to the strong smell of Folgers brewing and curly hair all over the place.

She still leaves the door unlocked and dishes in the sink. it gives me a purpose. A reason to be around; someone has to keep the place tidy. And she still closes Thrace down. That forces me to have a social life and give me the opportunity to have deep and meaningful's with Cicero again.

And she still shows up late, but comes right on time.

All the things that drove me crazy give me peace of mind. A routine to follow. A reason to be me again. A reason to let go.

It has not been easy. Heaven knows there have been many rough patches, and there are probably more to come. Ashley hasn't faltered once. Not even a stutter-step. She includes me in every part of her life. Never lets me hide from mine.

She has proven herself in so many ways. I continue to test her, tempt her, push her. She's like a wall though. I'm starting to have faith in the foundation we laid as teenagers.

She's like Phoenix in the night sky. Always looking down on me. Keeping me safe. All her bad points are out shined by her good ones. One steady apex after another and another and another and another. Like the star carved in this tree I'm leaning against. A five pointed constellation of love.

Can I really sum her up in five points?

It won't hurt to try. She taught me that. Teaches me that every day with her **passion**. The way there is always a smile on her face, no matter what. I don't know how she does it. And I don't think I want to figure it out. To understand it would take away the mystery. That in turn would kill the passion. There will be no more supernova's.

No supernova's because there is too much **stability**. Even when I've been on the verge, she's been right there with me.

_"Spence, Hun, let me help."_

"No Ash. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Spencer Carlin." She said in a stern voice that startled me. "I've seen you naked it can't get worse than that." She made me laugh so I unlocked the door.

I took a few uneasy steps towards the toilet. Strong hands grabbed me in a bear hug from behind. I start to shake in resistance but she grips me harder still. A nose on my nape countered the panic.

"I'm right here," she whispered.

I laid my hands over top hers. She intertwined our fingers. I went weak in the knees. It's okay, though, she was there to hold me up. 

She still holds me up. Attack after attack she still holds me up. Steady as this tree, piercing as the sun behind it. She is here when I can see her and when I cannot.

She's very good at **penetrating** my walls. She hasn't let me stop her. There have been times when I've fought like a Spartan. Others I fought and never knew it. And there have been times when I have begged for penetration. Her endless prodding has been my salvation.

I don't think I could thank her enough. I know I don't need too, but when somebody takes the time to navigate the labyrinth you've built around yourself, take your hand and guide you out of the alley ways, give you a boost over the dead ends, and wade you across the murky moats of memories that drown you, it feels, necessary, and some how, not enough.

Sometimes my guilt over not being able to make it up to her has caused the panic that threatens to wedge us apart forever. Ironic really. Ashley's been true to her word though, always right there with **healing** hands. Those hands. I will never get enough of those hands. Or they way their grip never loosens.

_"You can do this," she said grabbing my hand, bring it up for a kiss. I nodded my head as she got out of the car. I sat with my hand on the buckle staring out at the pond on the horizon. Chains started to clamp down around me. My breath shortened. _I can't do this. __

A tap on the window pulled me out of my mind. I giggled when I turned to catch her making fish faces at me through the glass. Rollin down the window I said, "I thought we left Pagaea at home?"

"I thought we left our fear at home?"

"Ash, it's not that easy."

"Spence, yes it is." I opened and closed my mouth a few times. "Now who's a fish?"

I grin and unbuckled the belt. What could I say? 'You don't know what it's like'? She knew very well what it was like. She'd been through this before. She knows what it's like to visit a fathers grave.

"Take your time," she said. "I'll be here when you're ready to get out." 

It had felt like hours to me when I finally opened the door. It felt like days before I stood up. It only took seconds to make it to the bench at the foot of my fathers grave, because she was holding my hand.

It had been a long year since he died. I hadn't been out there since his funeral. I probably wouldn't have gone out there if it hadn't been for her **reason**.

She has been my voice of reason in so many ways. In her talking and her silence. In her sighing and her panting. In her touching and her distance. In her laughing, her smiling and her bright eyes. She is the reason I am finding myself again.

She's also the reason I'm finding myself sweating to death in this park. She's 20 minutes late, as usual. I can forgive it because it's teaching me to be patient again. I don't mind it either, really. It's as lovely day. Flowers are starting to bloom, lovers are walking hand in hand. Kids are flying kites. A guy is playing a guitar for lose change. That woman is being walked by her dog.

The sight makes me laugh out loud. The black and white pup is not that big but he is pulling that woman all over the place. Her brown hair is bouncing and she's squealing.

It's cute. It's, it's Ashley! I double over to my knees, eyes full of tears as I laugh at my girl. I can barely breathe I'm laughing so hard. She looks petrified and the pup is pulling her. I wish I had my camera.

When I compose myself enough to sit up, I start to panic. The little dog is heading straight for me. I try to back away from the attacker, but I'm pinned between the tree and one wet tongue licking furiously.

"Ash, Ash," I gasp between laughter, "get it off, get it off."

"No," she says collapsing next to me, "it's your turn to deal with it."

"What is it?"

"Spencer," she cocks her head with a grimace, "it's a dog."

"I know that you goober. What are you doing with it?"

"Walking it." she said exasperated.

Giggling I say, "it looked like he was walking you."

"Ha ha shut up." She panted for a few more seconds and with a full chest of air said, "Sorry, I'm late. I couldn't pick up the puppy until 3:00. Traffic was a nightmare, I was afraid you'd leave before I got back."

"I thought about it."

"You wouldn't have gotten far, I had the car."

"That's true." I grin, then kissed her on the cheek receiving a wet tongue on the chin. "Eww, Ash, get this dog away from me."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He's yours."

"What?"

"Happy anniversary," she said capping it off with a long slow kiss that was only broken by a thin tongue sliding between our lips.

"Ugh, seriously, Ashley, do something with him."

"I'm sorry, Hun, I can't. I agree with him. Mamma's hot isn't she ya lil' rascal?" She tussled the hair between his ears, he barked happily bouncing in her lap.

How could I possibly get cut up at that sight? It's the cutest thing ever.

"So, what are ya gonna call him?" she asks.

"Me?"

"Yeah, he's yours you name him."

I sat for a moment watching him pounce off and on Ashley. I had never named a pet before. My dad always did that. "I can only come up with one thing."

"What's that?"

"Hercules."

She fell on to me laughing at my choice. Hercules started growling at her. Just as she regained composure enough to sit up he lunged at her, knocking her backwards and licking every inch of her face.

I scooped him up, kissed him on the head, "Yup, Hercules. My hero."

"As long as you're still my goddess, you can call him whatever you like."

"I will always be yours Ash. I will always be yours.

[sic]


End file.
